Souvenir of a Hiatus
Sep. 19th, 2008 11:44 pmAt the last moment he hesitated, in spite of having warmed himself for months with the thought of Watson's astonishment. But there was neither sense nor logic in having hauled the battered tin box halfway 'round the world just to hide it away beneath the bed, or turn it over to the untender mercies of a pawnbroker.
For what would no doubt be the last time he ran a sensitive hand across the painted name, and wished that he had found the papers it had once held. There was nothing left inside but memories. Pray God they were good ones.
For what would no doubt be the last time he ran a sensitive hand across the painted name, and wished that he had found the papers it had once held. There was nothing left inside but memories. Pray God they were good ones.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 05:55 am (UTC)Reminds me a little bit of the real-life journey I made in the South of England while on vacation in 1995. One particular day I took 2 trains and 2 buses, and walked 6 miles on foot (along roads with no sidewalks, only ditches with roadkilled badgers in the New Forest) to reach the tiny village of Minstead, to go up to the little church and into the churchyard, through the oak trees and wild ponies, to the back of the yard...
All so that I could bring back to a dear friend, a devout Sherlockian, an acorn that had been on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's grave.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 06:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 03:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 10:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 11:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 10:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 10:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 03:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-20 10:13 pm (UTC)